How warm the rain this morning!

It is a morning to sing along with—

the rain a drum beat on the roof of my helmet
the whoosh of rubber through puddle a cymbal
I let all the car alarms, too, be bird song
and my grin swells with the wind and the clouds.

It is a day to breathe, like the wind, a bit deeper
to look at those clouds, like that, a bit longer,
to hope that I die before those trees do
to ask of the birds, who am I to outlive you?

I wonder how I sit

with feet like these

how I can fall

with wind so strong

how I can speak

with birds so sweet

how I can frown

with grass this green

how I can sleep

with these stars of bliss

and how I can hate

with the Earth like this.

How can I hate with the Earth like this.


The reader brings his or her own experience to the poem and creates meaning. Here is my experience.

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